


Lost and Found

by MasterPsychosis



Category: Rick and Morty
Genre: Alternate Universe, Dom Morty Smith, Dom/sub, Dubious Consent, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, One Shot, Oral Sex, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-14
Updated: 2017-11-14
Packaged: 2019-02-02 09:35:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,475
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12724068
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MasterPsychosis/pseuds/MasterPsychosis
Summary: One Shot where you lose your Rick and accidentally run into the new President of the Citadel.





	Lost and Found

You never meant to end up on The Citadel.  
  
In fact, before today, you didn't even know there WAS a Citadel.   
  
But here you were, standing in the middle of a plaza, watching the endless stream of Ricks with their Morties milling about. You had heard Rick mention in passing before that there were an infinite different realities, along with an infinite different versions of himself, but the reality of this hadn't truly sunk in until you were face to face with thousands of the blue haired genius, trying to find your own Rick in a sea of, well, Rick.   
  
You weave your way through the crowd, surveying the surrounding area, trying to figure out where the scientist had gone. He shouldn't be too difficult to recognize; he was perhaps the only Rick on the entire Citadel without a Morty. They came from a dimension where Beth had never married Jerry, and therefore Morty nor Summer had even existed in the first place, an unusual circumstance that normally would have been devastating to a Rick's typical way of life.   
  
Instead, however, the horse surgeon and her father had moved into the neighborhood you lived in, and over the course of last year, you'd slowly developed into Rick's assistant instead. Not that it had really been your choice in the first place.   
  
You'd been the equivalent of drafted by Rick to help him. You'd spoken to him maybe once or twice in brief, occasionally while tinkering on your piece of junk car outside while he was pacing in and out of his garage, working on what you now knew was whatever gadget or gizmo he would have been working on that day.   
  
That was about the extent of your and his relationship prior to the day that a green light erupted in your room while you were laying on you bed, doing homework, and the scientist had stepped through into your room. Drunk off his ass, he'd grabbed you by the arm and dragged you through the swirling green pool despite your confused and very panicked protests, and gone off on some wild tangent about how he 'needed your help on an adventure' as he'd shoved you unceremoniously into his space ship.   
  
That had been the beginning of the rollercoaster that had become your life since then. Although initially terrified, you'd allowed yourself to be entranced by the beauty of the galaxy, and the brilliance of the elder man beside you, and eventually, accompanying him had become your past time. You did what he did, and you went where he went. Free will by virtually non-existent anymore. He controlled where and when you went. It didn't matter if you were asleep, at school, with friends. You ran on his schedule. And, as annoyed as you may have sometimes gotten with this fact, you couldn't help but admit that, deep down, the danger and unpredictability of it all was part of the reason you loved it.   
  
Today hadn't been any different. He'd burst into the middle of your Language Arts class, grasped you by the arm, and dragged you out of the class without so much as a word. It was only when you two had left the atmosphere that he'd even bothered to elaborate that he needed to visit the Citadel to pick up something. Now, what that something was, you didn't know. He hadn't been willing to tell you; hadn't even been willing to take you with him all the way to get it.   
  
"Then what was the point of taking me out of class then?!"   
  
"Because I didn't want to leave you alone, you idiot. Who knows what could happen to you while I'm away?! You could be kidnapped by my enemies, or get yourself murdered. It's less of a headache for me to take you with me, so stop complaining and deal with it."   
  
~   
  
"I swear if he left me here, I'm going to break the old bastard's hip..." You mutter under your breathe. You'd wandered along the streets for a while now before ducking into a darkly lit building that had turned out to be a nightclub of sorts. The place was littered with Ricks and Morties milling around, mostly of the Miami sort more than anything else. This was not very surprising to you; this seemed like the part of establishment they would frequent at home, and the Citadel aimed to please all different kinds of Ricks.   
  
Some Morties danced on different stages strategically placed around the room so you could barely turn anywhere without there being some barely clothed ass in your face. You cringed back slightly. You can't imagine your Rick ever looking at a club like this, much less being found inside of it.   
  
You turn on your heels, prepared to make a hasty retreat back into the street, only to find yourself face to face with a brunette teen a little taller than yourself stooped over in your face. "A-A human girl? W-We occasionally see alien women, but n-never other women from Earth."   
  
The Morty was wearing thigh highs, kitten heels, and some overly lacy underwear. Much more risque an attire than you'd ever dreamed you'd see in person, especially on a male. You back up a bit in surprise, a mixture of astonishment and mild embarrassment lining the features of your face. "I'm sorry, I'm just looking for my Rick-" you explain hastily.   
  
"A Rick?" The Morty looks slightly disappointed, but purses his lips thoughtfully. "If you haven't seen him up here, you may find him near the back. That's where some of the more...backhand deals go on. Not in the sexual sense." He hastily adds on, noting your reaction. You nod thankfully. "I'll check it out."   
  
"H-Hope you find him! If you don't though, I-I'm always here." The Morty throws you a flirtatious wink before sauntering off, leaving you, once again, alone as you maneuver your way through the crowd towards the even more dimly lit back room. A silky, curtain blocks the door, and you slide it aside, ducking into the room.   
  
The room is illuminated a dark burgundy, with long shadows falling across the walls and floor. An empty stage lays in the middle of the room, and a Rick is kneeling on the other side of it, looking up at...   
  
A Morty?   
  
He isn't like any other Morty you've ever seen before. He has two guards on either side of him, and he's seated in an almost comically large chair for such a lithe frame. A red and black suit decorates his figure, but what catches your attention the most is the sheer intensity in his eyes. He looks dangerous, even murderous, with the same dark, intelligent glare you had seen dance across your Rick's features from time to time.   
  
And then those eyes are fixated on you. You feel yourself recoil slightly instinctively, feeling unusually small under his piercing gaze. You hold eye contact in silence for a moment, before he turns his attention back to the Rick at his feet. "Take care of him."   
  
The two guards on either side of the teen grip the Rick by the arms and tears him, screaming, from the room. You plan to slip out with them, but you're halted by a single command:   
  
"Stop."   
  
You turn slowly and face the Morty, who is looking you over with a careful curiosity. "Look, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to intrude. I was just looking for Rick and-"   
  
"Your Rick?" He seems surprised. "But you're not a Morty. Only Morties have Ricks."   
  
"No, no. You see, my Rick was born in a dimension without a Morty. So I'm kind of his companion instead. We just came here to stop by, and I can't locate him, so if you don't mind-".   
  
"Shut up."   
  
In your hasty ramblings, you hadn't noticed him stand up and approach you, but now he stood right before you, cupping your chin with his thumb pressed harshly over your mouth to silence you. He's taller than any Morty you've ever met;  not by a lot, but just enough to be noticeable. You comply, staring up at him wide eyed. "Why bother looking for your Rick? Ricks don't care about their companions. Surely you know this by now."   
  
"What?" You look at him, incredulous. "Of course they do. Rick may be impulsive, yes, but that doesn't mean he doesn't care."  The Morty just chuckled at this, shaking his head. "Believe me, no Rick can care about anything but himself. But Morties, on the other hand, well -" You feel a quick, sharp prick in your arms. "We're better at 'taking care of' other people."   
  
You feel a rush of warmth flood through you as you start to rebuke him, and your legs go slack beneath you, causing you to fall against the Morty, who catches you easily. It's as if a liquid fire is surging through your veins, causing every fiber of your being to tingle with every flame that licked at the underside of your skin. "Wh-what..."   
  
"Shh, just relax. Let it overtake you." You could feel his warm breath brush against your ear as the aphrodisiac courses through you, causing you to feel everything around you with a sharp intensity you'd never experienced before. It was as if every nerve in your body was screaming at once, all trying to be heard.   
  
But what stood out the most out of everything was Morty. The way he was pressed up against you. The feeling of his surprisingly strong arms encasing you, holding you up. Just the sensation of him being close to you was more enticing than anything else you'd ever wanted in your life.   
  
Half of you wanted to just let go, sink into the warm feelings and be whisked away from the troubles of the universe, but the other half knew better. The rational side of your brain screamed in protest. "You don't know who this Morty is. You don't know if he's going to hurt you, rob you, kill you..." The list of possibilities, just like the list of every version of the fluffy haired teen, was endless.   
  
"Morty-"   
  
"Call me Mr. President. I worked hard for that title." He chuckled softly from just above you, tilting his head to the side slightly in mocking thought. "Of course, that might not roll off the tongue very well, huh? Let's see..” He smirked, cupping his fingers just beneath your chin and forcing your gaze up to him as he carefully made his way backwards and sat down on his chair with you in tow, letting you collapse over in his lap, now almost kneeling on the floor. “How about we just go with Sir, hmm?”   
  
Your thoughts were hazy and confused; a jumbled concoction of fear, confusion, and painful arousal. Heart pounding, you nod, letting out a soft groan. “Ahh…” The room felt stifling hot, and the sensitive area between your legs felt slick and neglected; an issue Morty seemed to take notice of almost immediately.   
  
"Oh? Are you having a bit of trouble down there?" He crooned, a sadistic glint in his eye. You barely have time to register what he said before you feel his leg shift beneath you, and suddenly his foot is pressed into your crotch, rubbing in circle slowly and methodically, and you practically sink down on his shoe, almost frantic to increase the amount of friction; to find any miniscule amount of relief. You manage to pant out a weak "Yes".   
  
"Yes what?" You yelp as he brings his hand down hard on your backside, leaving it stinging and you even more turned on than you thought possible. "Yes Sir!"   
  
"Better. Don't forget next time, or I may not be so lenient." He leans back in the chair, running a hand through your hair and lowering his leg away from you. You whine at the loss of contact, desperately trying to grind against him to recreate the lost sensation. "Look at you, pathetic in your need. It's almost as if your Rick never takes care of you. “ A smug look played upon the man above you’d features. “That's alright though; Ricks don't take care of anyone, no matter who or what they are. I will though.” He snickered, an arrogant sound you don't think you'd ever heard come from any Morty before. “ But only if you work for it."   
  
He grips himself through the fabric of his pants, and you catch on almost instantly.  The logical part of your subconscious is screaming at you that this is totally fucked up, that you should get the hell out of here, but at the same time, you find yourself willingly loosening his belt, pulling it off with your teeth and letting it fall to the floor before sliding his pants and darkly colored boxers down in one go, allowing his erection to spring free of its confining quarters.   
  
He's definitely larger than you would have imagined him to be, that's for sure. You pause, almost wary of it, before you're edged on by an annoyed noise above you and a hand sliding through your hair, gripping it tightly at the roots and pulling you in. Taking the hint, you tentatively run your tongue slowly from the base upwards, drawing a sharp inhale from the brunette before you take him gently in your mouth, sucking gently.

 

“That’s it. Good girl.” Morty sighs above you, letting his head fall back against the back of his chair as you slowly work your way up and down his shaft, pushing yourself a little closer to the base with every descent. He tastes a bit salty, like sweat, yet this does nothing to hinder your efforts. You have no idea what exactly he put in you to make you feel so good, but you make a mental note to ask him later. Maybe Rick will be able to replicate it for you, given that he doesn't guess what you want it for and humiliate you cruelly for daring to ask.

 

Looking up through your lashes, you catch sight of his face, glowing with ecstasy, and you can't help but feel a little bit of pride bubbling in your stomach before you continued, pressing your tongue flat against the underside of his length, slowly dragging it from the base up, eliciting another deep moan from the boy above you.

 

His fingers dug into your scalp, gripping your hair so firmly it was almost to the point of uncomfortable, and suddenly thrusts up into your mouth, pushing his way into the back of your throat and holding you there. You choke, feeling your muscles spasming in an attempt to dislodge the obstruction blocking your airway, but this does nothing but urges him deeper, losing himself in the pressing heat.

 

Then, as suddenly as he'd pressed in, he pulled himself completely out of your mouth, leaving you hacking unforgivingly, gulping in breaths of cool air as the brunette climbs to his feet, towering over you with a looming presence you hadn't noticed before. You meet his gaze, taken aback and yet pulled in by the burning need you see there.

 

Grabbing you by the arm, he yanks you to your feet and crushes his lips against yours, pressing his tongue forcefully past your lips as his hands slowly trail down the curves of your body, fingertips dancing like candle flames across your skin, leaving a light burning sensation where they graze your skin before he slides one of under the fabric of your pants and slips a long, spindly finger into your awaiting opening.

 

You gasp loudly, arching into his hand as he pumps in and out of you at a painfully slow rate, mewing embarrassingly loud. You're almost positive that people out in the rest of the club could hear you above the roaring music, but at that point you didn't even care. As he slipped a second finger in, slowly but surely stretching you out, Morty breaks the kiss, leaning forwards, his warm breathe ghosting over your ear and causing you to tremble. “Beg for it. I want the entire citadel to hear how much you need me.”

 

He emphasises his point by abruptly curling his fingers inwards, grinding them against that special bundle of nerves just a couple inches inside of you, and you feel your senses expload into a flurry of sensations, drawing another powerful moan from your body. “Ah, AH! Pl- _Please_..!”

 

“Please what?” He feigns innocence, continuing to gently rub his fingets against your inner walls, causing fireworks to expload across your vision as you cry out “Please, Sir, please fuck mE!”

 

He barely waits for you to finish asking before he's flipping you around, pushing you over so you're on your knees again, leaning over the chair he had been sitting on for support as he forcefully rips your pants and underwear down, exposing your lower half to his intense gaze. You try to shy away instinctively, but he grips your hips with one hand, holding you in place as his eyes raked over you hungrily, the other hand casually pumping his already glistening erection.

 

You tense slightly as you feel him press against your entrance, the realisation of just _how_   _large_ he is finally sinking in. Your worry fades suddenly though as he pushes himself past your entrance, slowly burying himself into your heart, his length rubbing against your inner walls in all the right places. You arch back, leaning your head back against his shoulder as he bottoms out in you, before he draws back out almost all the way, starting out at a punishing pace that you know is going to leave you sore later.

 

But right now, all you can focus on is losing yourself in the overwhelming sensation of the brutal pace the brunette had set, pounding into you as he reaches around your chest and digs his fingers into the skin, raking them possessively down the front of your skin. Beads of blood pooled along the red drag marks, but honestly you couldn't feel anything other than the immense pleasure washing over you in waves, every crest, every thrust, every sweet nothing whispered in your ear pulling you closer to the edge of orgasm.

 

And then it hit. Morty's name cascaded over my lips in a high pitched stream as I came, writhing wildly beneath the weight of the man above me, keeping me in place. I could feel my muscles tighten around his member, and heard the breathy moan it free from his as his thrusts became more erratic, cuming just as I was riding out the end of my own peak.

 

He slide out of me as I knelt there, panting with my forehead resting against the soft cushion of the chair as I listened to the sound of the Morty getting redressed. I wanted nothing more than to just curl up and fall asleep, but as my thoughts began to clear, I suddenly remembered I still hadn't found my Rick. I blindly fumbled with the waist of my pants, pulling them up and securing them clumsily just before the Morty shoved me off his chair onto the floor.

 

“I'm done with her. Get rid of her.” Before you could orient yourself, you felt strong arms grip you by the arms and yank you to your feet. The guards? You tried to recall when they had reentered the room, yet you couldn't recall them coming back into the room. A bright red blush spread across your face. Had they been watching the entire time?

 

You didn't have much time to wallow in your embarrassment though, for as you were being escorted out, you felt your phone vibrate in your pocket. You dug your hand into your pocket, unlocking your phone to see a message from your Rick, bitching at you for wandering off from where he'd told you to wait for him. You roll your eyes, before quickly shooting back a snarky response that it wasn't your fault that he hadn't returned in the time frame he'd said he'd return in.

 

You shove your phone back in your pocket, shooting one last glance at the Morty, who was still staring at you, now back in his chair with a lazy, smug grin playing upon his features before you hurried off, eager to leave this memory behind as soon as possible.

 

Evil Morty watched you scurry off, lifting a drink off of the side table next to his chair, his smirk widening as you disappear from sight.

 

“You're sure you want to just her go, Mr. President?”

 

He chuckled, not even sparing a glance at the guard who had made the inquiry. “No, there's no need. She'll be back; don't you worry about that.”

  
“And when she does, I'll be waiting.” 


End file.
